


The Brink of Irrevocability

by Indefensible2017



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/F, Light Angst, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 12:16:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13717515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indefensible2017/pseuds/Indefensible2017
Summary: Serena desperately wants to tell Bernie how she feels but can't quite find the words.





	The Brink of Irrevocability

**Author's Note:**

> I had a few hours of free time today and my brain starred whirring. It's just a 1/1 for now but I might pick it up again at some point. It feels a little different to what I normally write. Would love to hear what you think.

**The Brink of Irrevocability**

 

Serena sat with her phone in her hand, felt almost as though she were frozen in place by her own indecision. The kitchen floor felt cold beneath her bare feet, the silence around her deafening and the hardwood of the table uncomfortable as she rested her elbows on it, stared into the screen in her palm.

How easy it felt, _how torturously easy,_ to send the confession that had sat tensely in her mind for the last few weeks or so. How long exactly she had felt it forming she realised she was actually quite unsure, perhaps it had been there since they’d laid eyes on each other across the hospital car park four months ago, only now had grown to the point where she felt unable to dismiss it, although not for a lack of trying.

Bernie was inextricable, intoxicating, felt like home in a way Serena had never experienced. She knew she wanted to share more than a hospital ward with her, knew their friendship was developing atop of feelings Serena could only describe as deceitful to now keep to herself.

Her mind drifted to just a few hours prior, how had been something about the warmth in Bernie’s eyes that night as they had stood together in their office at the end of their shift. How Bernie’s voice had been so soft and soothing, had so easily calmed Serena’s distress after a complex surgery together. How Bernie’s fingers had trailed so briefly down Serena’s arm before they’d parted ways.

As Serena had driven home that night she had almost been able to imagine this feeling, this _thing_ she felt between them, wasn’t entirely one-sided, and now here she was, and had been for the last hour. She’d promised herself a large glass of wine for dutch courage, was even now sat next to a clean wine glass and a bottle of breathing Shiraz but couldn’t bring herself to pour any, terrified the alcohol would bring her to send the wrong words. This needed to be thought through and honest. She needed a clear head.

She debated at least composing the message, to see how the words looked on the screen as though that might bring some reassurance that she was doing the right thing, but Serena knew if she did then she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from sending it, even if it suddenly seemed like a mistake. The nerves that fluttered around her stomach needed this to be over, might allow her to do the wrong thing just to make the butterflies stop.

Evenings spent awake in bed had been filled with how Bernie might react to Serena’s confession whilst they were in theatre, or sat together in their office, or in Albie’s, but each time Serena’s imagination had led her to only see Bernie’s expression - embarrassed and awkward that Serena would feel so deeply, so intimately over her, when she had regarded their friendship to be cordial at most. Serena had finally, somehow, decided she couldn’t possibly have _this_ conversation with Bernie face to face, had resolved to handle it by text and had found some relief in that decision up until now.

She could feel her heart in her chest as she opened up the message chain from Bernie. She studied their previous conversation for any hidden meaning, any suggestion that she wasn’t about to simultaneously destroy a friendship and the best working relationship she’d ever had.

Maybe she couldn’t do this.

She put the phone down, the light from the screen still blaring into the darkness of the room, decided for a moment that this was ridiculous. She was a grown woman, had spent her adult life regarding herself to be a straight one at that, and yet here she was like some sort of lovesick teenager, too afraid to send a bloody text.

She groaned, rested her head in her palms. How she wished she had someone to talk this over with, had agonised over mentioning it to Ric or Raf or Sian, the words sitting on the tip of her tongue whilst she had sat opposite them in various bars more times than she cared to count.  

 _I think I have feelings for Bernie Wolfe._ Serena rolled her eyes at her own thoughts. _Think?_ She _knew_ her feelings for Bernie went beyond friendship, had tripped over her own words and blushed her way through enough conversations with her co-lead to recognise the signs of an out-of-control workplace crush.

Serena considered that maybe Bernie would brush off a revealing late-night text as a drunken mistake, would act like nothing had happened and they would just carry on as normal, but the thought seemed more a fantasy than anything. Serena knew if Bernie didn’t feel the same their relationship would be irrecoverably changed forever, no matter how hard either of them might try to forget. A late night text would silently hang over them for the rest of time.

But they were both adults, had always managed to resolve the few conflicts they’d had and the evidence of Bernie’s kindness didn’t match up to Serena’s catastrophizing at all. She smiled to herself at the memories of Bernie’s bright smile, her occasional gifts of coffee and pastries left on Serena’s desk after a tough shift or how Bernie always remembered which Shiraz to order at Albie’s.  These weren’t the action of woman that would hold a grudge against her, no matter how she felt for Serena.

She picked up her phone again, thumb hovering over the message area to begin composing her text. What exactly would she write? Would she put a kiss at the end? She didn’t want it to come across as friendly, felt the need to be clear in her intentions but how direct should she be? She feared she might easily sound crude or overly suggestive without some care as to what she wrote.

The sight of three flashing dots at the bottom of the screen made Serena’s heart leap and she watched as the animation moved back and forth, almost as though it were teasing her, as Bernie seemed to be composing a message.

Serena tore her eyes away from the dots, up at the time in the corner of her screen - it was nearly midnight. What would Bernie be doing up at midnight on a Tuesday? Unless perhaps she had been doing the same thing as Serena and had finally found the courage to actually message her. Serena tried to shake the hope from her mind but felt it cling on in spite of herself, her heart race increasing as the dots continued to flash in torturous anticipation.

Then suddenly the gentle ding of a new message filled the silence of the kitchen and Bernie’s message appeared.

_'Car packed up on drive home, think engine is cactus. Need to take to mechanic first thing. Could you cover first hour of my shift tomorrow? Sorry to message so late.'_

Serena closed her eyes briefly, squeezed them in the hope of somehow expelling the disappointment that sat heavily in her chest. Of course Bernie was texting about work. How ridiculous it was to contemplate anything else.

_'Not to worry about time, was up still anyway. Will cover your shift. Hope car gets sorted.'_

She hoped the message sounded friendly enough, wouldn’t give away the anxiety that had made her fingertips tingle against the glass screen as she had typed out her response. She suddenly wished she had had that glass of wine after all, needed to find some way to ease the tension she felt creep further into her frame.

_'Thanks. Are you having trouble sleeping?'_

Bernie’s concern made Serena’s heartache a little. How sweet Bernie always was with her, even if it was just a minor headache at work she would always try and offer some form of remedy to try to alleviate Serena’s discomfort.   

_'No, just a lot on my mind.'_

It was true at least, Bernie didn’t have to know that she was the reason Serena was still awake and had spent the evening sat in the dark of her kitchen with her phone in her hand.

_'Hm, tell me about it. See you tomorrow.'_

The irony of Bernie’s message left Serena feeling almost bitter. _If only I could,_ she thought to herself, _if only I could find the words to tell you._


End file.
